Life's a Gamble with cards, dice and car

You'll have heard by now that Ray Dobbs put his Chevy on the table at the Majestic on Saturday, and I'm writing because Mum will only call it a disgrace. It was, but I was the one standing by the fruit machine with my coat over my arm, so I'll tell you properly.

The band had finished the last waltz and the lads drifted through the stage door to the back room, where Sid kept the green baize under a sheet. Ray had three whiskies in him and a pair of dice he'd bought off a sailor in Bristol. He laid the car keys beside a fan of cards and said life's a gamble, as if he'd invented it, and Sid just grinned and passed him the cup.

Here is the part you won't believe. Ray rolled double six and went white as paper, then laughed too loudly. Then he turned over the ace of spades, the king of hearts and the queen of hearts, and called it a sign. I didn't see a sign. I saw a man whose hand shook so badly the cards kept sliding off the pile.

The car's with Sid now, parked behind the bins with its painted flames still licking down the sides. Ray walked home in the rain without his keys. I've kept the one card that fell under my chair, the queen of hearts, and I'm posting it to you so you can tell me what a woman is supposed to do with a card like that.

Love, Dolly